


Snow Blind

by Levade



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brotherly Angst, Family Bonding, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Protective Older Brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-04-21 18:11:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Levade/pseuds/Levade
Summary: Orcsbane, the twin sons of Elrond have been called for centuries by the Orcs of the Misty Mountains.  Feared and hated, the Orcs would kill them given a chance.  Wounded and hunted by Orcs, Elladan and Elrohir are driven to shelter during a blizzard and find an Orc child, seemingly abandoned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was started Sept. 2016 and has idled on my computer where I picked at ( ignored) it for ...um...two years. Yeesh. I owe two people my thanks that it ever got finished - EverleighBain and ArianaofImladris. They looked it over and told me what stunk and I might have carried on anyways, so blame me for errors. 
> 
> This is a birthday mathom, in the finest Hobbit fashion. Yep, it's my birthday today! Whew, I made it another year! :D

****

* * *

 

" _Be still_!"  Hissed between clenched teeth, Elladan pulled his brother against his chest, wrapped an arm around him and covered his mouth.   Eyes rolling white, Elrohir increased his struggles, but the arm around his chest was as immovable as Elladan's will pressing against his, and he finally fell still.

Breaths, hot upon the cold of his hand, blew too fast and Elladan closed his eyes, willing their pursuers to keep going.

The harsh bellows of Orcs came near, snarling as the wind chose that moment to pick up and rattle the trees, sending snow billowing down.  Shaking the snow off, the Orc snarled and turned to the hulking figure still looking around.  “Ugfang, none of us can track wit snow blowin’ sideways!” 

Head rising to the wind, the brawny Orc growled low.  “We had ‘em!”  He turned to his smaller compatriot.  “Even Elves don’t have heads hard enough to survive that knock.” 

Shifting, Sniksnik turned in a circle.  “Should be blood.”

“Lots of blood.”  Ugfang snarled and held up a bloody blade.  Blood trailed slowly down the blade to his hand and dripped in the snow.   “Find ‘em, boys, and we’ll feast on Elven meat tonight!” 

Gobsnog shivered, and crouched low.  “What of the others?  They can’t travel as fast.”

Ugfang showed his teeth, sharpened to points and proven deadly.  “Told them not to follow, didn’ I?  We ain’t watchin’ over snivlin’ brats, Gobsnog!”

Groveling in the snowdrift, the orc backed away.  “I jus-“

“You just thought!  Well,  stop it!”  Whirling, the Orc captain gestured.  “Track back! We lost ‘em somewhere by the river.  And tell Skumwort t’bring the Wargs!  We find those Elves or Narzod will eat us. Go!  Go!”

Elladan let his breath out slowly, straining to hear if anyone had stayed behind.  Pressing his mouth near his brother’s ear, he breathed, “Stay still and don’t even try to follow or I’ll gut you myself.”  A lack of response was his answer, and he laid his brother on the ground before rising silently to peer around the old oak. 

The swirling snow made it impossible to see far, but the wind was blowing towards the oak. He would have smelled the Orcs had they still been around.  Still, he waited, straining to hear anything.  The trees groaned as they swayed, the wind pushing as the storm roiled up against the foot of the Hithaeglir.  Elladan said a quick prayer of thanks for the storm and went to kneel next to Elrohir.  “Can you stand?” 

Elrohir tried to sit up and grimaced, falling to one side.  Swallowing twice, he clenched his eyes and pressed his lips together.  “No.”

“World spinning?”  Elladan ran his hand gently along the back of his brother’s skull, hissing when he felt the blood matting Elrohir’s hair.  “Have to get you somewhere warmer.”

“Jus’ hel’ me ...”

“Stay put.” Pressing a hand firmly on his shoulder to hold Elrohir down, Elladan stood.  The area  was familiar, but they were usually there in spring, after the snow melted.  The Hithaeglir loomed above, steep slopes where no trees grew and slate-sided rockfalls made it imprudent to climb.  The foothills they were on rose steadily from where the river cascaded down a series of waterfalls to the meadow below, and they had followed the trail of several yearlings, hoping to bring them back down before the storms rolled in, blanketing the meadow in snow.

It was early fall, a time when the trees took on jewel-tones and the days grew shorter and colder. They should have had at least another month before a storm this vicious blew in, but the warm never lasted long in the higher meadows. 

Elladan glanced at his brother, staring vacant-eyed, and blew out a short, hard breath.  There were caves near the bluffs by the river.  Cut out of the limestone by the rise and fall of the river, they had been dug even deeper by generations of Orcs. Orcs he and Elrohir had hunted and burned out for a decade.  They stank of death and decay and were like dark mouths opening out of the earth.

They were the only place to hole up in the storm.  With a  muttered oath, Elladan pulled his cloak around his nose and ploughed a path through the snow downhill, hoping he could find at least one of the caves. 

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s not Lothlórien or home,” Elladan grunted as he carried his brother through the low opening of the cave.  “But it’s out of the snow.”

Elrohir was silent. He’d passed out as soon as Elladan had picked him up and taken one jolting step, foot sinking in the loose-packed snow.  The trip from the oak to the cave had not been easy or gentle.  His raw knuckles were a testament to tripping on a hidden root and staggering forward.  The small tree had taken the brunt of his weight, and a bit of skin, but it had stopped him from falling with Elrohir. 

Gently setting his brother on the ground, Elladan pulled his cloak off and laid it over Elrohir, tucking the edges under his body.  “Remember how we used to argue about who got to start the fire?”  Elrohir said nothing, but his eyelids flickered and Elladan laid a hand on his brother’s forehead.  “Shh…peace, little brother.” 

He stood and looked around the cave.  There were depressions where the burned remains of fires laid and Elladan hoped some of the wood was still dry.  He had to get them warm or they were going to freeze to death.

There was some loosely piled wood near the back of the cave, and Elladan hurried to gather it up.  He used some of the smaller bits for kindling, and with some muttered prayers soon had a fire burning.  The flickering light barely touching the deeper reaches of the cave, but Elladan was more concerned with his brother as he pulled his tunic up and peeled the bloody shirt away.

The cut was long and ragged but not terribly deep.  Slicing a length of his own shirt, Elladan used it as a pad and then cut a longer strip to wind around Elrohir’s waist.  The head wound was more worrying and he needed warm water and better light to truly see the damage, but Elladan settled for binding it as well.  They would need to clean it when daylight came.  Bleeding slowed, he dug in the small pack they always carried and found small bags of various herbs.  They weren’t labeled, of course. Elrohir knew what they were and never bothered.

Elladan wished now that he’d paid closer attention to what his brother had said. 

A sniff told him one was athelas, and the next something he didn’t know the name for but it wasn’t what he wanted.  He opened one, uncertain of what it was and dipped a finger in.  Touching it to his tongue, he grimaced. That was it.  He set it aside carefully and hunted for something to heat water in.  “Brother, you carry more than I realized.” There was a tin of the yellowish paste his father used for bruises, and a small metallic object.  Pulling it out, Elladan shook his head.  It was a small brass horse, made when they had been younglings, and had visited the Dwarven kingdom of Khazad-dun.  One of the Dwarves had been amused by his brother’s endless questions, and had shown Elrohir how to form a horse of wax before using it to create delicate jewelry.  Elrohir had been fascinated, and was forever creating bits and bobs as he called them – jewelry that was beautiful and delicate and showed his Noldorin blood.  The small brass horse had been a parting gift. Intricate down to the flowing lines of the mane and tail and flared nostrils, it was a trinket that would have brought a pretty price in any mannish market. 

It was just like Elrohir to carry such a thing, even though it had no real purpose. 

But ah…  there was a tin cup and that was the treasure Elladan had hoped to find.  He stood and went to the entrance of the cave to get clean snow and set the cup near the fire.  Settling next to Elrohir, he stroked the near-black hair off his brother’s face and frowned.  Elrohir’s skin was clammy, and he shivered even with the warmth of the fire.  Gathering him closer, Elladan cradled his head carefully on his arm and reached for the small bag.  He wasn’t sure how much to add to the snowmelt, but wrapped a bit of cloak around his fingers and pulled the cup from the fire.  Blowing on it to cool, it added a few pinches of the willow bark.  It was bitter, he knew from experience.  “No honey to make it sweeter, brother.  This is how Glorfindel used to give it to us, remember?”  He smiled.  “When we’d gone and done some lunk-headed thing he told us not to, but it never got better.”  He levered Elrohir up, and carefully dribbled a little of the warm liquid in his mouth.  “Come on…no, don’t spit.”  Holding his brother’s jaw closed, he gently pressed his will against his brother’s.  It wasn’t a fair contest, Elrohir, who was always laughingly defiant, gave under the barest press of Elladan’s will and swallowed the bitter liquid with only a grimace. 

A few more swallows and Elladan set the cup aside.  “You did well, shhh…”  Cradling his brother, Elladan hated how helpless he felt.  “You have to rest now.”  He pressed his cheek against the top of Elrohir’s head and waited until he felt the steady rise and fall of breath, the steady heartbeat to relax.  That heartbeat had always been part of his life.  He couldn’t imagine it any other way. 

Outside the storm raged on in quiet splendor, blanketing the mountains in a majestic cloak of cold, cold snow, obliterating the path of Orc and Elf alike.

 

* * *

 

“You can't play that card."

The bright eyes latched on him and one bushy eyebrow rose.  "Oh?"

The boy shook his head, and slapped a different card down.  "See?  You have to match the suit and the numbers need to-"

"Lad!"  Sitting back the Dwarf burst out in a bellowing laugh that made the boy cringe and cover his ears.  "The wee spriteling thinks to teach me how to play Dwellen!"

As the other Dwarves roared with laughter, the boy straightened and dropped his hands away from his ears.  "I'm not wee!"

One of the Dwarves who had been watching walked over and sat.  "Lad, have ye looked at yourself?"

"No.  Why should I?"

A mirror was produced and he stared at the image.  "That... That isn't me!  I'm not a child!"  The laughter was louder this time, and he felt it in his bones.  "Stop laughing!  I'm not a child!"

"The wee babe is gettin' angry," one of the Dwarves taunted.  "Watch out or he'll wail an Elven song for us!"

He stood up and glared from one to the other.  "Stop.  STOP IT!"

"Elrohir, sshhhhh."  Another mirror, this image showing a mature version of himself.  But something was wrong. 

He shook his head.  "But, they're playing the game wrong."  It came out far more plaintive than he wanted but it was SO annoying!  "Tell them to stop laughing!"

It was the eyes.  They were so sad.  "Oh, baby.  Shhh...you're dreaming."

"N...nana?"

"Nana is here, darling."  Blue filled his eyes as his mother cuddled him closer, and he breathed in the scent that was hers alone.  "Nana won't leave you."

That wasn't right.  It wasn't right!  "But you did!"  Elrohir pushed away, shaking his head.  "You left me!  You left us all!  How could you do that?"

Tears filled the blue eyes.  So sad.   So, so sad.  "I didn't want to.  Oh, my beautiful boy, I did not want to!"

He shook his head, pushing hard.  "You sailed!  You left us!  Leave me, left Adar alone!!"

"Shhh..."  The arms were strong, heartbeat steady, holding him in an un-yeilding hold.  "Peace, little brother. Shhhh..."

Darkness swam in circles and he groaned, feeling his stomach lurch.  "Adi?"

"It's all right, Ro."  A callused hand came up to cup his neck, thumb stroking his cheek.  "You're all right."

"Don't feel good."

"I know." 

Near black hair swept across his face and he closed his eyes.  The darkness slowly tipped to one side before lurching to the other.  "Gonna be sick."

And he was, stomach heaving even when there was nothing left but bile that burned his throat and brought tears to his eyes.  He spat and coughed as Elladan rubbed his back.  "Water?"

"Here.  Lie back down." 

Hands eased him down and a hand swept the hair off his sweaty face.  "Feel bad."

"I know." 

Daring a deep breath, Elrohir peered up owlishly at his brother.  "You?"

"Fine."  Elladan sat again and eased his shoulders up.  "Drink slow.  Just sips."

It dribbled down his chin and he panted as if he'd run the entire circuit around the valley, but a small amount slid down his burning throat.  Elrohir licked his lips and closed his eyes.  "Where?"  The pause was too long and he cracked his eyes open again, fighting the heaviness pushing them back down.  "Adi?"

"Safe." 

The wind was howling outside and he turned his face towards the warm solidity of his brother.  "Dreamed of Jarvi.  Khazad-dûm.  That trip we took."

"Did you."  The tone was tired but laced with an amused note. 

"Mm."  His bones were weighed with lead, pulling him down, down.  So heavy.  He licked his lips and slurred, "Cheated at cards."

"He always did."

"S'what I said."

"Sleep, little brother."  

The hand was cool on his forehead, the pressure of Elladan's shining will gentle as it nudged him towards the soft darkness.  "Not wee."

Elladan quirked an eyebrow.  "All right.  You."

"Heh."  Elrohir finally let the dark blanket sweep over him, but a smile lingered on his cracked lips. 

Shaking his head, Elladan sighed.  At least he knew the crack to Elrohir’s head hadn’t addled his brother entirely.  Still, he’d feel better if they were home where their father could assess the wound, but even if he wanted to attempt hauling Elrohir down the foothills to the meadow he couldn’t.  The snow was deep, too deep to carry the weight of both of them. 

He tended the fire, and dug some dried meat out of the pack.  It was tough as old shoe leather and almost frozen, but after a few minutes by the fire, he deemed it edible.

Barely.  How the Rangers survived on fare like dried meat was a mystery. 

Restless, Elladan stood and walked to the cave entrance.  He squinted as the clouds scuttled aside and the sun hit the white wonderland that surrounded him.  It was quiet, only the wind sighing through the pines, making them groan as they swayed.  There were a few squirrel tracks and the paw prints following them were from a fox likely on the hunt for breakfast.  Elladan wished the fox luck and sighed.  Had the storm hit just the higher elevations or would they be able to get clear once they came down out of the highlands?  He hoped the horses had the sense to either trot on home (the likelier situation) or go back to the lower meadows and join the herds. 

It was possible they had; his gelding was fond of one of the goats Roccandil kept in the stables and might have decided to stay with the goat herds rather than going all the way home.  At least the goats had the sense to move down, away from the storms.  The sheep would stand in the field, huddled together for warmth, and freeze rather than move.

Pushing away from the cave entrance, Elladan sighed.  This was getting him nowhere fast.  He walked over to put away the items he’d pulled from the pack and frowned. Where was the little horse?  He bent over Elrohir, trying to determine if he’d snatched it up, but his hands were laying open at his side.

“Huh.”  Odd, but it would turn up.  Elrohir probably was lying on it. 

Sitting cross-legged, near enough to reach out and touch his brother, Elladan pulled his knives, oil and whetstone and set out to put a deadly edge on them.

 

* * *

 

Near sunset when the snow was reflecting the pink and orange of the setting sun, Elrohir woke and groaned, clenching his eyes shut.  “Feel like I ate a sock. Why?”

“Maybe you did.”  Elladan set aside the book he’d found at the bottom of the pack and knelt next to his brother.  “Welcome back, sunshine.”

“Back.”  Elrohir grimaced and ran his tongue over his teeth.  “Sludge.”

“Let’s see if you can sit up without festooning me with vomit.”

Grey eyes slitted open and Elladan was grateful to see the pupils were almost the same size again.  Elrohir grunted and said nothing when his brother slid an arm under his shoulders to help him slowly sit up.  “Morgoth’s balls, stop moving!”

Elladan frowned, and laid his wrist on his brother’s forehead. “You’ve got a fever still.”  But it heartened him when Elrohir feebly batted his hand away and scowled. 

“Asked for a pretty healer.”

“I’ve been called pretty.”

Leaning heavily on his brother’s shoulder, Elrohir blew out a breath and closed his eyes against the spinning cave.  “Willow bark.”

“Never been called that.”

“Ha ha.  Pack?”

Elladan grinned suddenly and reached for the pack with his free hand.  “Missed your sparkling wit, brother.”  He leaned Elrohir against the cave wall and found the pouch with the Willow bark and the other with athelas.   Adding a few pinches of the Willow bark, he helped hold it as Elrohir grimaced. 

“No honey?”

“Just drink it.”

A grimace, and Elrohir gulped the bitter water then sat, lips pursed as his stomach contemplated rebellion. 

Dropping more snow in the cup, Elladan set it by the fire to warm and studied his brother’s face.  “Better?”

“Two socks now.”  He licked his lips.  “Athelas?”

“Heating water now.  Hold your britches.”

The ghost of a smile curled his cracked lips. “Rotten healer.  Gonna complain.”

His words were still slurred slightly, and Elladan could sense the pain radiating from the goose egg on the back of his brother’s head.  “I’ll be sure to tell Bronwë.” 

Elrohir sighed as the crisp scent of athelas filled the cave.  He drew in a deep breath and cracked open one eye.  “What?”

“That your hard head was cracked because you charged off ahead of me and that you’re blessedly lucky to not be dead.” 

The tone was biting and Elrohir said nothing for a while, just watching his brother as he frowned and pushed the wood around the fire.  “Adi.”

“You almost drowned, Elrohir!  Blood everywhere, and I got you up and moving and …”  Elladan swallowed hard and his eyes were fierce as he met his brother’s gaze, but his voice was low.   “Don’t you _ever_ do that again.  I thought you were dead."  He could still see Elrohir, floating face down, hair swirling black against surly grey as blood filled the water.

“I’m sorry.”  

“Don’t be sorry!”  Visibly reining his temper in, Elladan shook his head. “You took the head wound because I couldn’t turn fast enough to gut the scum before he got you.”  One deep breath and his voice was level again.  “That one’s on me.”

“Feels like it’s on me.”  Elrohir held up a hand hoping the grin wasn’t quite the grimace it felt like.  “Peace, Adi.  Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Elladan shook his head. “You’re an ass.”

“You’re the worst healer ever.”  Slowly levering himself down to lay flat, Elrohir grimaced.  “Athelas first.  Always.”

Laying a hand on his brother’s head, Elladan could feel the spikes of pain radiating up his arm.  He pressed his will towards Elrohir and sent energy towards the wound to speed the healing, grateful when his effort wasn’t spurned.  One last gentle nudge, to send Elrohir deeper into sleep, and Elladan reached for the book. 

It was going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

It was the smallest noise that roused him from his reverie, blinking once to clear his vision, and Elladan was already rising to his feet, sword in hand as it moved.   A mouse or something innocuous, he didn't wait to see, but strode towards it sword sweeping up to strike...

And froze as the flickering firelight revealed a form in tattered clothing, rags wrapped around small feet, arm up to ward the blow.  Elladan froze, staring in disbelief, his sword coming down as he realized it was a child.

But no small child could survive a storm alone and certainly not in such ragged clothing.  Before he could speak, it opened its eyes and stared at him in terror.  Huge, dark eyes, filthy matted hair that was impossible to say what color it was, but a tattoo on the forehead he'd seen before. 

Elladan let his breath out in a huff and shook his head.  "Child, where is your family?"  He spoke in the common tongue, hoping it was familiar.

The child cowered back, covering its head and whimpering.

As if expecting an attack. 

Sweet stars of Varda.  Elladan swallowed and felt sick.  He dropped to crouch on his heels and set the sword down, still within reach.  Child or no, he'd seen the unexpected from the youngest of enemies.  "What is your name?"

It curled in on itself even more and Elladan sighed.  He had little patience for children, and was rarely around them.  Not since...  No, it didn't do to dote on the small ones.  They came to his father's house to be safe and gain and education that might help them lead their people and then they were gone in the blink of an eye. 

Elrohir was far more comfortable with children and the unpredictable situations they often got into.  But Elrohir was sleeping and in no shape to deal with a frightened youngling.

"My name is Elladan."  He sat cross-legged, large enough to still block the child if it ran, but hopefully looming over it less.  "That is my brother, Elrohir."  Feeling foolish, he continued to speak, softening his voice.  "We were searching for several young horses when the storm struck and we sought refuge here." 

The child peered at him from behind its arm but still didn't move. 

"Are your mother or father here with you?"  He half-expected someone to charge out of the darkness, but it was a foolish thought.  The cave didn't go that much farther and grew very narrow at the end. 

Small enough for a child to hide, but an adult....  No.  "Did they leave you here to be safe while they went looking for food?"  He mimicked eating and the scrawny arm dropped, as the child stared intently at him.  "You're hungry, aren't you?"

Biting its lip, the child gave a quick nod.  Elladan held out his hands.  "I'm going to get up, don't be afraid.  I need to get the food out of my pack.  All right?"

Large eyes watched his every move, and the child was trembling, though from cold or fright, Elladan couldn't tell.  He picked up his sword and rose slowly, stepping back without looking away from the child.  The pack was near Elrohir's foot and Elladan found the meat, and pulled out several pieces of the dried meat.  He left the sword by his brother and knelt, holding the food to the child.  "It's food.  See?"  He ripped a small piece off and chewed on it.  "Tough and tastes a bit like Elrohir's herbs, but it's not the worst I've ever eaten."

Quick as a snake, the child darted out, grabbed the meat and scrambled back against the cave wall. 

Elladan watched as she, he thought it was a she, worried at the meat like a dog with a bone.  "I can melt some snow if you're thirsty."

Licking her fingers, she looked at him with a pinched face that spoke of fear. 

He mimicked drinking and she nodded quickly, licking her lips.  She watched him avidly as he went to the cave opening and got the snow then held the cup near the fire to melt it.  He held it out to her and she grabbed it so fast that some of the liquid spilled but she gulped it greedily, making sure every last drop fell in her mouth. 

Elladan nodded when she held it towards him and melted more snow that she accepted just as readily as the first time.  Finally sated, she sat with her back to the wall and watched him warily.

He scooted back towards his brother and shook his booted foot.  "Elrohir.  Wake up."

A muffled groan was his answer, and Elrohir glared as he opened one eye.  "Which part of me being convalescent don't you understand?"

"We have a guest."

"Wonderful."  Pulling his cloak over his face, he groused, "Unless it's someone taking us home-"

"Brother."  Elladan grabbed the cloak and yanked it away.  "Look for yourself."

"What is so important that I..."  Elrohir leaned up on an elbow and stared for a long moment as he saw their guest.  "You found a child?"

"She was here the entire time, I suspect."

"She-"

"I know."

"Adi.  Sweet stars."  Elrohir blew out a breath and met his brother's gaze.  "What do we do with an Orc child?"


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm sorry for the long wait.  Had a lot going on and some second thoughts about this story.  Thank you for reading!  To those I couldn't comment back to because you weren't logged in, I love your comments!  Still not sure about this but hey, I promised more, so here you go._

* * *

_  
**Chapter 2**_

 

One of the book of Elvish legends kept in the library of Imladris purported that Orcs were once Elves, captured and tormented by Melkor, purity corrupted until their _fëar_ and _hröar_ were twisted and unrecognizable.  They became the first Orcs.  Later, they were compelled to mate with the race of Men who multiply faster.  Thus Orcs became the legions of Melkor.

Elladan didn't truly believe it.  Oh, he suspected the Dark Vala had attempted it and maybe he'd had a few Elves who succumbed rather than continue to fight.  Elladan knew he would rather die than allow himself to become such an abomination, but Glorfindel always warned him not to misjudge the power of Morgoth or Sauron.  _Everyone has a breaking point,_ he had told the brothers many times.  _Everyone has a weakness that can be used against them, a strength that betrays them.  The Powers are not like any of us.  They are **More** than you think. _

Elladan had scoffed more than once, certain of himself and cocky in his youth.  After all, the Powers clearly were not perfect.  They had allowed Melkor to go free, believing he had been redeemed and what had he done?  Killed the Two Trees, murdered Finwë, planted seeds of jealousy and ruin, and left Aman in darkness and chaos.  

That had earned Elladan more time with his father and Erestor, going over the philosophies and histories of earlier Ages.  They had discussed the genius of Fëanor as well as his eventual fall.  Elladan admired his ancestor but he saw the fatal flaws that had lead to his death:  fear and pride.  It was a lesson that had haunted Elladan, who was often accused to being aloof, and too proud.  As a youth, he had been sure the Curse would fall upon him.  He was of a line that carried the blood of Maia, Elf and Man.  Had not his father's life been one hardship after another?  Glorfindel had finally pulled him aside and taken him out into the Wild.  Without Elrohir.  Without his father.  Just himself and the Eldar, and he had spoken to Elladan as an adult, as he never had done.  He had answered questions that had preyed on the younger man's mind, and told Elladan things he doubted many others had ever heard. 

It had calmed his fears.  Oh, the questions...they would never stop.  That was just Elladan's nature.  But he came to grips with his unique ancestry, and finally saw it as a gift, not a curse.

And yet...  Elladan sighed and flipped the knife, catching the blade before flipping it again. 

"You do realize that's a tell when you're worried."

Slanting a look at his brother, Elladan shrugged one shoulder.  "What are we going to do?"

They both looked at the sleeping child.  She'd finally passed out from weariness but they knew if they made a move, she'd startle awake and hide in her corner. 

"We can't kill her."  Elrohir looked sick at the thought.  "She's a child."

"A child who will grow up to breed more of her kind and continue to kill and eat ours."  Flipping the knife and catching it on the handle, Elladan pointed the tip at the child.  " **Never** forget her kind tormented our mother."

Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, Elrohir frowned.  "I never forget, Elladan.  But that child wasn't even born -"

"It doesn't matter."

Drawing back from the anger in his brother's voice, Elrohir stared at him for a long moment.  "Then you need to do it."

"Fine."  Rising without a sound, Elladan walked to stand over the child, knife glinting in the firelight.  She was curled tightly, and as he watched she whimpered and sucked on her thumb.  He steeled his resolve.  What he did was a mercy.  This child was an abomination.  Neither Man nor Elf but something twisted.

He bent closer, and  steeled his will to slit her throat, quickly.  She would never feel a thing.

She sighed, eyelids fluttering in some dream, and he paused, his heart finally overriding his mind and protesting.  This was a living being.  With a soul.  He could sense it, though it was very different from an elven fëa.  She'd done nothing to harm him or his brother.  She might yet grow up to do so, but this.  This would be cold-blooded murder.

Without a word, he turned and stalked out of the cave, leaving Elrohir to slowly let out his breath. 

The child didn't stir.

 

* * *

 

Elrohir jolted out of a dream to blink at his brother, who was crouched across from him, tending the fire.  "Adi-"

"Don't." 

Still angry then.  Elrohir sighed and let it go for the moment.  He was too tired to tackle Elladan in this foul of a mood.  "I was just going to ask what the weather looks like out there."  Sarcasm was his brother's usual weapon of choice, and he waited for the biting answer, but instead Elladan shook his head. 

"It's all ice."  Glancing to where the curled up huddle of child slept, Elladan sighed.  "I walked up to the ridge and it only gets worse up where the wind comes sweeping down.  I doubt even you and I could make it on a best day."

Nodding slowly , Elrohir considered the information.  He and his brother weren't fools, regardless of what some thought of their deeds of earlier youth.  What did people expect?  They'd grown up on tales of the First Age, when Elves still wandered as masters of the land, and feared little.  Who wouldn't be stirred by the tales of Fingon the Valiant, Fingolfin, who challenged Morgoth himself and Idril, who saved her people?  The blood of Maiar and legends flowed in their veins and they had thought themselves invincible. 

Shaking his head, Elrohir closed his eyes as pain spiked through his head.  "We would have tried anyways once upon a time."

 A snort.  "Idiots, the both of us."

Perhaps.  "But we did things others said were impossible."

"And got our hides chewed out not only by Adar and Naneth."

Elrohir grinned.  "There were lines waiting, weren't there.  Erestor.  Roccandil."

"Glorfindel."  Elladan shook his head.  "His lectures were almost worse than Adar's."

"Because he carried out his threats."

"So did Erestor."  Elrohir had vivid memories of Erestor's punishments and the research and subsequent projects he doled out.  There had been times he had wanted to jump out a window rather than conjugate verbs in yet another language.  "Valarin."  He shuddered.

"Mm."  Elladan shrugged.  Erestor's idea of punishment had only fired his thirst for knowledge.  "Glorfindel was good at sussing out exactly what would penetrate our skulls and wear us out at the same time."

Elrohir nodded.  "I wonder if he and Haldir collaborated?  They always both had an unending list of chores no one wanted to do."

"Blame Naneth for that, or Galadriel."

The brothers were silent for a long while, each lost in their thoughts. 

The howl of a prowling predator snapped them out of contemplation.  Elladan was up and moving before Elrohir could push unsteadily to his feet.  "Blast it."  Hand to his head, he set the other hand against the cave wall. 

Elladan had the child in his arms, hand over her mouth.  Her eyes were huge and she was rigid with fright, fingers clamped on his hand.  "Quiet."  It was a mental suggestion, and she went limp, eyes glassy.

With a grimace, Elrohir bent and slid his sword out of the scabbard as quietly as possible before walking carefully around the fire to stand at the side of the cave's entrance.  Steeling himself to wait, he listened for the crunch of stealthy claws on the icy snow.

They could hear the snuffling whines, but after a time that seemed to last for an eternity where it padded back and forth, the creature turned and the footfalls went fainter and fainter before fading. 

Elrohir let out his breath in a woosh and let the sword drop.  He was sweating and dizzy as he looked at his brother, but his grin was fierce.  "That was fortunate."

Elladan looked down at the child.  "I wonder."  Setting her down on his cloak, he frowned.  "We need more wood."

"Take the bow and quiver."  Looking to the night beyond the cave, Elrohir frowned.  "That wolf could still be out there."

"I'll be careful, naneth."

Elrohir made a face and slowly went back to his spot at the fire, sinking down with a groan.  "Next time you get the cudgel to the head, and we'll see how smart that mouth of yours is."

"Keep the fire going, little sister."

"Oh."  Elrohir set the little tin cup on the edge of the coals and dumped in some snow, not really caring if it was clean at that point.  "You will pay for that."  He dumped some willow bark in the cup and waited, head pounding with every heartbeat.  "You better hope I don't have to rescue you, damsel."

Elladan grinned.  "I'll be right back."

Flapping a hand, Elrohir leaned back against the cave and waited for the willow bark tea to cool.  "I'll just wait here.  You go be heroic."

With a roll of his eyes, Elladan went in search of something dry enough to burn.

 

* * *

 

 

There was an empty feeling to the world after a storm when snow blanketed the land and even the birds had taken shelter.  Elladan scanned the area below the ridge, looking for movement but not even rabbits were out, looking for grasses to eat.  With a sigh that puffed the air to a cloud, he carefully made his way down to the stream.  Finding a suitable stick, he cut it from the tree and sharpened the two branches at the end into sharp points, both only a finger length long.  Then he stood on a rock and steeled himself to patience. 

The stream hadn't frozen over but it was sluggish, and he knew any fish would be in deeper pools where the water was warmer.  There was a deep pool just past the rock he stood on, and with the grey light, no shadow to worry about.  He threw a bright red berry he'd plucked from a holly tree and waited to see if anything came up after it. 

Nothing, but the fish would be hungry after a long storm, and so he tossed another berry in, throwing it higher so it fell with a loud plunk into the water.  A flash of movement and as the fish rose to strike, Elladan drove his stick down.  It struck the fish and he twisted the stick before pulling it out of the water and throwing it towards the shore. 

A fish wriggled on the end, speared by the tines and he grinned, leaping over to pull it off his improvised spear.  Leaving it packed in snow, he returned to the rock.  With a great deal of patience and skill, he caught three fish, and right as the weak sunlight was beginning to fade, headed back to the cave. 

Thunder boomed across the hills, echoing, as he came through the cave opening.  "We have dinner!"

"What about firewood?"

"Collected before I went fishing, thank you."  Setting the fish by his brother's foot, Elladan went back out to carry in the firewood.

When he was done, Elrohir had two fish speared on a stick and was preparing to cook them. 

"Where's the third fish?"  He turned as his brother gestured and frowned at the sound of crunching bones.  Elladan grimaced as he saw the child ripping the fish apart.  "She's eating it raw."

"I thought she might like it that way-"

"I didn't get the fish for some orc brat to eat raw, Elrohir."  Elladan strode towards the child who shrieked and scuttled back, fish clutched in her hands.  He stopped as she hissed at him, showing very sharp teeth.  Her eyes were huge and in them he saw equal measures of fear and hatred.  "Fine.  Keep it now that you've mangled the poor thing." 

"Elladan-"

"No!  Look at her, Elrohir!  She's a savage creature, not a child."  He shook his head and left her, returning to the fire.  Kneeling, he jab a stick into the fire, stirring the coals.  "You can't change her."

"Who said I'm trying to change her?"  Flipping the fish over, Elrohir glared at his brother and shook his head.  "You scared her, that's why she reacted that way."

"Oh, really?  And I suppose she all cuddly and sweet when I'm away?  She's an Orc, Elrohir!"

"I am aware of that."

"Then act like it!"

"And do what, Elladan?  Kill her?  We already had that discussion."  He tested the fish, and grimaced, sucking on a finger.  "Neither one of us is a baby murderer."

"Then what do we do with her?"

"Who says it's up to us to decide?"  Glancing at the child, who was now huddled in the cloak, nothing but a dark shape in a corner, Elrohir sighed.  "We leave her for her family to find."

"What, to hunt and kill them another day?"

"We've never killed a family before."

"We've burned out caves like this one.  Who's to say there weren't families in there."

Rubbing his face, Elrohir sighed again. "Then what?  What do you want me to say, Elladan?"

He wanted to know what his father would do.  What Glorfindel or Erestor or any of the other Eldar in the valley would say in answer to this problem.  "They slaughter our families without a moment's hesitation." He looked up.  "How many people were in that caravan we found last summer?  Men, women, children.  Babies, Elrohir!  Nothing was left alive, so tell me how I'm supposed to have mercy and feel pity for that thing in the corner!"

Pulling the fish from the fire, Elrohir set them aside to cool then met his brother's gaze.  "It comes down to what you believe, Adi.  Do you think they choose to be evil?  Or maybe they were bred to be murderers, and even if everyone left them alone they would still kill."  He shook his head.  "I can't really say.  I don't know.  But it seems to me that in peaceful times they're still out here somewhere, hiding and living without too much fuss.  We don't see them, we don't hear about them, and even the trolls don't cause too much trouble unless they stumble into a settled area.  What does that mean?  That they're not really evil so much as ...driven by someone or something?"

Elladan snorted.  "Right.  They're out there in peaceful settlements, farming or something."

Shaking his head, Elrohir slid one fish off the stick and jabbed the non-sharp end at his brother.  "Eat.  Maybe it'll cheer you up."

He was silent as he ate, but his mind worried at the problem.  "We have to decide what to do."

Elrohir just shook his head and leaned back against the cave wall, pulling his cloak around his shoulders.  "I already spoke my piece."  His face, already lean, looked gaunt in the flickering light of the fire and the bruises under his eyes were still dark.  "If you want to do something different, you'll need to be the one who does it, brother."

Elladan's voice was gruff when he spoke.  "Go to sleep.  We'll see if we can get out of here in the morning."  He hoped they could get down the mountain, get to the lower meadows and from there, go home.  The storms typically rolled in one after another, with a few days in between, which meant they had to go soon or be stuck to wait out the next storm that would bring even more snow.

Adding another piece of wood to the fire, Elladan glanced over at the dark shape in the corner.  There were no easy answers.  That the child would kill them given a chance, he had no doubt.  She was too small now, too weak.

But in a short span of years...

He couldn't kill a child.  Not in cold blood, and not when she'd done nothing worse than hiss at him in fear.  And she should fear him.  Orcsbane, he'd heard them scream in one attack.  How must it feel to have twin brothers who hunted them so relentlessly, so ruthlessly? Elladan had never considered how it would seem to them.  Why should he?  They killed without mercy, plundering and eating their victims like animals. 

But he wasn’t an animal. 

And he wasn't going to sink to their level.

They would leave her where they had found her.  Leave her to her fate.

It was a kinder thing than any orc would do if they found an elven child alone and defenseless. 

Elladan put his back to the fire, and pulled his sword out of its scabbard, setting it across his lap.  He would keep watch and in the morning, they would leave this wretched cave and go home.

 

* * *

 

“Just leave her. She was here alone when we found her and that’s how we’ll leave her.”  As his brother frowned, Elladan held back his impatience. “That’s what you said, Elrohir.  Let’s go.”

As Elladan left the cave, Elrohir knelt in front of the child.  He hesitated, then handed her some of the dried meat.  “Find your family.”  With a frown, he added, “Don’t come back to this valley. Tell them that.”

He stood and closed his eyes as his head pounded and the slice across his abdomen burned.  He was healing but slowly.  Too slowly for his satisfaction.  Turning, he grabbed his pack and walked out of the cave.  The sun was out and the snow was blindingly white. With a grimace, Elrohir ripped a portion of his cloak from the bottom and cut two slits before wrapping it around his head.  “You’d better shield your eyes as well, Adi.”

“I’m fine. Let’s just get going before the wind brings in another storm.”

Elrohir snorted.  For all the surly attitude, his brother wasn't so harsh. 

He'd left his heavy cloak with the orc child.

* * *

 

_TBC.  What did you think?  Is Elladan right?  Will being merciful prove a bad decision?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! If you're still with me, thank you! I wish I had the words to tell you all how grateful I am for your follows, favorites and comments - I really am like a dragon on a gold hoard with them, and chortle and love each notification! This is a transitional chapter, so very short, but I didn't want to make you wait. There is more and it *will* be about the actual plot. As always, my biggest thanks to EverleighBain and Ariana, who are honest and tell me when it sucks and needs to be changed, and encourage me to keep going.

* * *

"Have...to...stop." Elrohir bent and leant his hands above his knees, willing his weakness away, but the throbbing ache in his head that beat to the tempo of his heart didn't subside. His stomach rolled, threatening worse and he dragged in a deep breath of frozen air that burned his throat and lungs. A cough tightened his throat but he caught the frown on his brother's face and read the hesitation there. "I'm fine." It came out as a wheeze and he grimaced.

His snort was visible as a white puff and Elladan turned away so his sour frown was hidden from his brother. They were moving too slowly. It had taken three times as long as it should have for them to get to the top of the rise. He considered following the river, but there was ice under the snow and a fall into the icy water in the frozen surroundings might kill his brother. "We're not going to make it to the lowlands before sunset."

Straightening, Elrohir waved his brother forward. "Stop flapping your lips and move, auntie."

"I'm serious."

"So am I." Matching the glare with an equally annoyed scowl, Elrohir took the step that brought him up to Elladan's level and met his brother's gaze. "Let's go. We've traveled at night before."

"Not with you -"

"Just-"

A long howl cut their argument short, both automatically moving to guard the other's back. It was distant, but soon a second howl sounded from a different direction. Elladan grabbed his brother's arm and dragged him over to the nearest large tree. The oak still had brown leaves clinging to the branches. They rattled in the wind and one flew loose, soaring past the brothers. Pushing Elrohir to the tree, Elladan dropped his shoulder and caught his bow, scanning the forest around them. The trees were thin this high up, and those that weren't evergreens were skeletons with bare branches that danced in the wind. With every gust of wind, snow swirled around the ground like sprites cavorting before disappearing. "They're above us, probably in the rock fall above the cliffs. I don't think they caught our scent." He strung the bow before turning to his brother. "We can't go back now."

Elrohir had his bow in hand when it was taken from him. He sighed as Elladan strung it before handing it back, but met the grey gaze steadily. "Then we go forward."

The nod was slow in coming but Elladan nudged his shoulder. "Get going. I'll drop back a bit, cover our tracks."

One last assessing gaze and Elrohir turned to begin to walk.

* * *

Elladan was taking longer than expected. The sun had set, taking with it any vestiges of warmth, and the wind had picked up as the moon rose. Elrohir stopped and leaned against a towering pine that blotted out much of the night sky, boughs outstretched like arms, embracing the night. Once his breathing slowed, he closed his eyes to listen to the night. There was an owl, soaring across an open space, looking for mice, soft wings making almost no noise as it hunted. The pines rustled in the breeze, whispering of snow and roots that grew deep, deep into the ground. Far away, he heard the rushing of the river that was slowing in the cold, and the cracking of ice that would cover it within several nights.

He did not hear his brother. Quiet as he might be, Elladan did not walk entirely soundlessly on snow, especially when it was this icy. It was a skill that took patience and concentration, a mindfulness of the Music, at least that was what the Silvan Elves said. Elrohir personally thought they just had lighter frames than their Noldorin cousins and so the snow and trees found them no burden at all.

Head throbbing, he shivered as the wind blew, shaking snow from the branches above. What he wouldn't give to be home now, warm in the Hall of Fire. There would be singing and laughter and -

Elrohir snapped out of his light reverie as he heard a heavy footfall on the snow. Dropping to one knee, he brought his bow up and strung an arrow, grimacing at the ache of abused muscle. Elladan would whistle. Any moment now. Soon, he hoped. The throbbing in his head was starting to blur his vision and Elrohir swallowed hard at the pain. His brother was nearby – he always had a sense of that, but what was delaying him? Taking in a deep breath, he whistled the call of a night bird and waited for the answering trill.

The wind picked up, and several pines groaned as they moved in the wind.

Grimacing for his stubborn brother, Elrohir stood and crept around the base of the pine. There was a hollow just large enough for him to crawl into that was out of the wind. Pulling his cloak tightly around him, Elrohir shivered. He was exhausted, too much so to devote any energy toward healing, but he kept an arrow out, bow on his legs.

He heard the sound again and strung the arrow, waiting with his breath held for whatever it was to appear in the opening of the hollow.

* * *

What was that sound? Blast the wind anyways! Elladan shoved his hood back and strained to hear. Had it been his brother whistling or just the wind through the rocks? The wind was starting to howl, blowing snow from the ridges and trees into a blinding sting of white that hit his cheeks and face and effectively blinded him. Staggering to a boulder, Elladan crouched behind it and pulled his hood up again. Blowing on his fingers, he cursed the weather that had been so unpredictable and unseasonable. Couldn't they get one break? He knew where they were, that was one thing going right. Glorfindel used to bring them up to the peak in the fall to see the trees and watch the Eagles hunting over the lake. Not the Great Eagles, but they had been magnificent regardless and he had sat for hours watching them soar and dive to the lake to snatch a fish out of the water.

A sharp spike of fear jolted Elladan to his feet and he whirled, heart pounding. Elrohir! He wrapped the hood of his tunic as tight around his face as he could and pushed his way through the blinding snow. He had to reach his brother.

He found Elrohir's bow and the imprint of his body in the snow at the base of the tree and picked it up with a snarl. There was no blood, just the sense of shock and that tingling jolt of surprise.

Turning in a circle, he blinked as snow was blown at him, hitting his skin like icy bites. The moon and stars were behind the clouds, and the night was a vault of black around him.

Elrohir was out there, somewhere. Elladan closed his eyes, concentrating on the connection that had been with him since his first heart beat, his first breath. When he caught a faint hint of direction, he shouldered his bow, gripped his brother's bow in his hand and began to push his way through the bitter cold snow.

* * *

"Ada?" He didn't understand why his father wasn't there. His father was always there. Where could he be? Everyone knew he rarely left the haven. So why wasn't he there? Peevish, he called again. "Ada!" The call ended in a racking cough that made his back and chest ache and he whimpered, curling into a ball.

So cold. Why was it so cold? "Nana? Can you close the window?" He shivered, feeling as though he was both burning up and freezing. How could it be that no one was there with him? "Adi? Adi!" He wanted to get up and go find everyone, to see what they were doing. Maybe they were all in the Hall of Fire, listening to that group of Dwarves who had come through Rivendell. He wanted to hear the Dwarves! They sang deep, harmonic songs that vibrated in the bones, and sometimes told tales of their people. Struggling to push himself upright, he yelped in pain and curled up again.

His head felt like it was going to split apart any second.

"Ada, _please_ ," he begged, hot tears running down his cold face. Maybe this was a punishment? But where was Adi then? And where was his mother? "Please..."

But he heard only the howling of the wind as an answer.

* * *

"NO!" Elladan staggered, going to his knees as pain ripped through his chest and head. He swallowed the hot bile that rose in his throat and struggled to push past the agony to its source: Elrohir. The connection was faint, barely a sluggish trickle of awareness, and Elladan fought his panic.

Pushing to his feet, he tried to let the panic pass as Galadriel had taught him. _Breathe and concentrate on your heart beat. Let it pass through you, but do not let it ruffle your calm. Breathe. Be as still as the water in this basin. The panic is but a wind, ruffling the surface of your calm. Do not let it create waves._

He gulped in a shaky breath, trying to calm the frantic beat of his heart as he reached for the awareness that was his brother. It was weak, so faint and tremulous he could barely sense it. Elladan fisted his hands and pushed past his panic to grasp at the thread binding him to his brother. "Hold on, Elrohir. I'm going to find you, just hold on!"

But where was he? Elladan looked around the dark woods, faint shadows now that the moon was hidden, with gnarled arms that rattled in the gusting wind. These trees were asleep, hibernating in the winter freeze, and would be no help. He was up too high still, where only the toughest of trees managed to survive the winter.

In that moment it hit Elladan that he had never been so alone. Practically cut off from the one constant in his life, Elrohir, stumbling through a frozen wilderness that might yet kill him, he walked as if in a daze to a clearing and looked up.

The stars were hidden, veiled from his gaze, but he searched the sky anyways. It had to be there. It was _always_ there. It was his lodestone, the blazing star that stood for hope and something that he had never admitted even to Elrohir; a connection to something larger.

"Grandfather," he began, and stopped, feeling stupid, as if was a child of ten again, begging for reassurance that the darkness pressing in and chasing him was not going to swallow all that he was. He valued knowledge, wisdom and the strength of a sword. Things that could be touched and proven.

He was desperate and desperately afraid for his brother. Elladan closed his eyes and calmed his mind. "Please, _please_ hear me. If you have any love for us, any love for your children's children, help me now. Help me find Elrohir."

Breath held, heart pounding, Elladan waited, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. He didn't care. Blood was a small sacrifice to finding his brother. He would give so much more.

Everything.

A howl echoed against the rocks above him, and was quickly answered by another, this one somewhere in the dark woods behind. Elladan opened his eyes and pushed aside the ache in his heart.

So be it. If he had to fight to find Elrohir, then he would kill every wolf pack in the Hithaeglir! He pulled his sword and raised it to the night sky, in a salute, in defiance and the sudden parting of the clouds, the brilliant silver gleam of moonlight caught the blade and reflected upon it like silver flames. " _Elbereth Gilthoniel_!"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Also, thanks to MistressOfImladris for the spelling catch. :)

**Author's Note:**

> TBC. Well? What did you think? I'll post more in a week or so -- but I'd love to hear what did or did not work for you. Thanks for reading, I love ya and I'll see you next time!


End file.
